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RP:Against All Odds
Captain Gregory Montrose looked through the transparent main screen to stare at the planet that was looming closer through the viewport. Although in reality it was the ship that was flying towards it, the skipper still felt as if there was something drawing his vessel towards what the UNSC designated as Beta-14. Disconcertingly, it looked normal. Too normal to suggest at what had once resided on its surface. The Forerunners had once inhabited this planet, from countless aeons ago. This had been one of the few places that hadn't been found by the all-consuming Flood parasite, but the inhabitants had died all the same upon the first activation of the Halo array, having been outside what the Forerunners called "the Maginot Sphere". Beta-14 was one of the planets that were cordoned off by the Flood's linear forces. Led by the rampant Forerunner AI 032 Mendicant Bias, the tactic could trap multiple inhabited colonies at a time, and press slowly inward until its victims were located and infected. Apparently the parasite hadn't made it here before the activation. "Sir? We're on approach to Beta-14. Orders?" At the sound of the ship's AI, Cassidy, Montrose snapped out of his reverie. He focused his gaze on the actual readings being projected on the main screen. Their vector was standard for a nonhostile landing on a planet, and the numbers all checked out. "Carry on," he said. "Communications, try to pick up something from the surface. See if you get a lock on the Elites that are supposed to be here." "Yes sir," the bridge officer replied. Their mission was simple; find some intel about what these aliens wanted, and why they separated from the ones in the Interspecies Union. At the moment, they hadn't shown any hostility towards humans or other Sangheili. Montrose wasn't even sure that they had a military. But apparently these guys had pieced together some Forerunner navigation data that brought them here, and had been searching for...something. No one knew how long they were here, or where else they went. But it was worth staking out all the same, in case things turned nasty in the future. All of which would've been normal, the Captain thought, Had we not brought a dozen warships here as well as several teams of Spartans. To anyone on the surface who had seen the task unit's arrival, it would have looked like a small invasion. But they know who we are. The brass had even decided to keep spare ships in reserve in case things got really nasty. And if even then the UNSC couldn't hold them down, the Sangheili would be contacted to see what they could do. Have we decided not to let our guard down after everything we lost during the Human-Covenant war? Or are we just plain paranoid? Not that this was a full-scale military operation. A handful of scientists, engineers, and other assorted civilians had volunteered to come along to lend a hand as well. They were getting quite a fair pay for this job, considering the relative simplicity of it all. Then again, there was the chance you'd go and don't make it back. "We have to see the whole picture here," Rear Admiral Richard Lash had commented. "It's always better to do it the easy way first." Montrose secretly agreed that the Sangheili would probably take to sitting down and talking better than they would having a line of Marines brandishing guns and glaring daggers at them. All in all, not your average mission. 1 Chief Petty Officer Cody-D1274 was completely silent as he stood next to the closed Pelican hatch. There were Marines sitting inside the dropship, talking among each other, checking on weapons and equipment, or looking out the front window nervously. He was tempted to contact the other Spartans on his team just for something to do, but decided against it. The Spartans had all been assigned to different transports, to different warships even, in case the task group's arrival at Beta-14 would be a chaotic one. It had always been a known strategy not to group a military force's most powerful soldiers together in case a well-placed attack took them all out, but this was kind of pushing it. Given a choice, he would have rather been stationed with his subordinates, Basilisk Team. There was something reassuring about just being together. Again, Cody wanted to make sure that everything was okay. He wouldn't have been surprised if Sophia had gotten into a disagreement with another soldier or something. She could be grouchy at times, but was a loyal soldier and cared a lot for her team. He just needed to keep an eye on her all the time. The Spartan NCO realized that his thoughts were drifting. He had to focus on what was ahead. His old mentor, Ezekiel-254, had always advised him to keep his eyes and ears sharp for anything that could be useful information for an upcoming mission. So far, all he had been told by his CO, Felix-116, was that they were to land on the surface and await further orders. A series of rendezvous points had been tagged in case something happened. Well, there's nothing I can really do to make this trip to the surface any faster. There was no information of use inside the dropship, that was for sure. Cody cast his gaze out the Pelican's front window. They were making a steady but rapid descent, almost vertically. The ship was still outside Beta-14's gravity pull, so the soldiers inside the dropship were drifting slightly in their straps. He could see large masses of mountains, forests, and rivers that seemed to seep into the land. He could almost make out the tall hills that occupied the land in large masses. The ocean bodies took up a relatively small proportion of the planet. It reminded him vaguely of Reach, where he was born. He remembered what the Covenant did to his homeworld, and wondered if the same fate awaited this place. It seemed so peaceful, and so normal...it was rather disconcerting. Although Felix hadn't said it in so many words, Cody guessed that there was some source to what the Forerunners had left behind here. That was most likely what the Sangheili were after, and what would they do after they obtained it? Cody realized that his thoughts were drifting again. He looked away from the window, and decided to plan ahead for the mission. Anything could happen during or after their trip down to the surface, and he knew that it was better to think ahead and see all the possibilities. And since the Sangheili were already here, they would have the home field advantage. He had to assume that the aliens were capable of military tactics, and could potentially take up arms against the UNSC. Thinking back to his observations, the Chief Petty Officer mentally plotted out ways to put the human forces on even ground... [[User:Sona 'Demal|'There is no glory without honour']] 03:52, June 25, 2010 (UTC) 2 Ten days previously After a while, one dive is just like any other. This was a maxim that David Kahn and other men of his ilk learned quickly in the mercenary trade. At some point in history the various lowlifes of the universe had made the collective decision to host the majority of their dealings within taverns and bars, and so if you wanted to get anywhere in the business you had to spend a good amount of time in such places whether you wanted to or not. Not that David particularly disliked bars. They had a certain earthy quality that was hard to find in more refined hangouts, and the clientele by themselves were well worth the grime and seediness. David had lost count of the many fights he’d sat through, watching and drinking calmly while the whole room went to hell around him. But these moments were only worthwhile when you were in the mood to enjoy them, and today he was here on business. David never allowed himself time to enjoy much of anything when he was on business, and unfortunately he was on business a good part of the time. He’d been busy these past few months on jobs that might have been exotic to some but by this point were little more than mundane chores to him. Assassinating a gang leader here, smuggling an illegal weapons shipment here, and more or less doing the galaxy’s dirty work for it were just part of the job for him now. He hadn’t taken an interesting contract in ages. Of course, this was not necessarily something to get too hung up about. The interesting assignments usually tended to be the most dangerous ones as well, and even someone with David’s reputation didn’t like taking chances too often. Whatever this contact has to offer had better be good, David mused, fingering the glass of water before hand. He’d been looking forward to kicking back and getting some alcohol into his system today, but that plan had been shot to pieces by a message from a local contact here on the Outer colony of New Ceylon. The man said he had a job offer from another source, and that meant today was another business days. David, like any other professional, made a point of not imbibing liquor on business days. As he raised the glass to his lips and took a swig, the mercenary saw a familiar face push their way through the crowd and head over to the corner where he was sitting. Vincent Brown, the most prominent middleman on New Ceylon, reached the table as David was lowering his glass. With a nod in greeting, David motioned for Vincent to sit down. “What’ll it be today, Vincent, straight talk or code?” Vincent snorted and took a seat. “Law enforcement’s never been tight around here, Kahn. You of all people should know that.” “It’s been awhile.” David scratched the stubble on his chin and eyed the middleman. “But I’m glad to be able to have a real conversation without some security cam bringing the whole police station down on us. Now what did you drag me out here for?” “Same old David Kahn,” Vincent muttered with a small grin. “Always getting right to the point.” “Time is money,” David pointed out. “And in this line of work, money is pretty much everything there is. So stop the bantering and get down to business. What’s the job?” Vincent produced a small handheld computer from his pocket and set it on the table before him. “I think you’re going to like this one, Kahn. I’ve looked it over, and it’ll be crazy dangerous. But the client specifically asked for you, and he’s willing to pay a lot.” David raised a single eyebrow. “Now that’s a phrase I hear all the time. Define ‘a lot’.” Vincent leaned forward conspiratorially. “We’re talking in the millions here.” A rare smile slashed across the veteran mercenary’s face. “Now you’re talking. Tell me more about this client...” Half an hour later, David exited the bar looking thoughtful. Withdrawing a computer of his own from his overcoat, he flicked it open and began punching in letters. This job would definitely be worth all the hardship it would certainly incur. The problem was, it would be very, very hard. David Kahn had not survived this long in the mercenary business by refusing to ask for help when needed, and now he definitely needed help. Preferably help that was skilled and tough, but at the same time easy to manipulate. His eyes scanned the list of names that appeared on his screen, a list compiled by the various galactic lowlifes who made it their business to know where people were at all times. The contents of this particular list were the names of any guns for hire of any standing in the underworld who were currently in the system. David eliminated from the list every name that was not currently located on New Ceylon. That left just one entry. Unlike most of the others, this one was not a traditional name and surname. This one was composed of only one word: Mordred. After eyeing that one name for several seconds, David pocketed the computer and headed away at a brisk pace looking even more thoughtful then before. --Actene 03:45, June 25, 2010 (UTC) |} A heavy fog of gas billowed from the cryo-tray, as both Spartan were brought to nominal temperatures. Technical crews swarmed around each pod, commencing the various set up sequences required to operate the armour. A middle aged man in ONI uniform stood, gazing at the fully armoured Spartan's, a single thought on his mind. The mission. It only took a few moments for the emergancy thaw to reach it's conclusion and each hatch slid open, exposing the soilders trained and homed to obey orders and get the job done. Both Spartans took a moment to awaken. "Sorry for the quick thaw but we've got a job to do." The ONI operative informed, punching in a set of commands into the terminal infront of him. "Sir this one has freezer burn " A tech reported, readng over the logs for each armour. "Left, arm" he continued, marking the report in Anthony-D2142's medical report. "Understood, begin seditive reversal" he ordered, moving to the door. Anthony groaned as he rose up from the heavy interlocks designed to hold him inside his armour. His eyes clamped shut before they quickly ajusted, the sight of the techs surounding him was both annoying and unerving, he detested waking up with cyro. A sudden sharp pain in his left his arm confirmed his hate for entering the chamber with his armour, Freezer burn. Looking down he quickly noted an ingection system designed to num the affected area. "Please take it easy" The Tech infront of him insisted. "We have delt with the freezer burn but your going to have to take it easy" The tech instructed, a pointless jesture, he knew what would happen. "Just like you to get freezer burn" Spartan-D249, Leona teased over the com, she already being woken up. Your world shall burn 14 Maverick finished up with his systems check before moving towards his weapons. He checked his SRS99S-S3 first, checking through every part, and making sure his custom scope worked before he moved through to the rest of his weapons. With a satisfied click, he began to look out at the planet below. From the height, the planet held on almost erie feeling to him. "You ready for this?" Asked a voice behind him. Maverick looked back, seeing the familiar face of Michael Peterson and his squad behind him. The Orbital Drop Shock Troopers did their weapons checks too, ready for any form of upcoming combat. Maverick opened up the holographic map of the area for one last run over of the plan. He was to set up a recon point with the ODSTs from far away and keep an eye on the Sangheili. The ODSTs nodded with agreement as every point was carefully gone over, every terrain feature memorized. With everything finalized, the unit headed towards their Orbital Stealth Insertion Pods, and prepared mentally for whatever might happen on the planet below. --''SPARTAN-G023'' ''Viae Cohors Gamma Sparti'' 10:53, July 2, 2010 (UTC) 15 Harry-120 finished staring into the reflective orange visor of his helmet and strapped it on with a clicking sound. Shortly afterward, the heads-up display flicked on, and the shield hummed peacefully, reloading to full power. He then did a quick routine check of all systems, as he always had for all the years he had served. For a SPARTAN-II, a job was never over – not unless you got packed in a body bag. A few meters away, Leo-009 clicked the last piece of his armor into place and strapped an Assault Rifle on his back. Together, the two spartans made up White Team, carrying out top-secret missions and participating in classified programs on behalf of the Office of Naval Intelligence. As such, they had been through many different versions of hell; they had recovered highly potent and dangerous nuclear warheads from fanatically dangerous splinter groups, infiltrated Covenant-occupied sectors to retrieve special contraband for study (and having to remain hidden from mainstream UNSC forces while doing so, as it was in direct violation of the Cole Protocol), fought a guerilla war against the Covenant, fought said Covenant for control of an ancient and dangerous alien artifact, and many other things. And they never complained. It was their job; they didn't know what else to do with their lives. Not that they had gone through all these decades of non-stop fighting unscarred; they had lost acquaintances and friends. Fil, the team's first AI, captured by survivors of the United Rebel Front and probably technologically dissected for his knowledge on Forerunner tech; Meghara, forcibly shut down once she reached her seventh year of operational service; Cecil Lynch, the team's control agent and sole outside friend, killed during the Battle of Earth. Neither Harry nor Leo was strangers to losing those you knew. But they were spartans; they had to keep going, always, no matter what was thrown in their general direction. They couldn't afford to falter. "Are you all right, Harry?" Harry snapped back to reality as he heard the Hispanic accent of Sita, White Team's new AI helper. Ever since they had tested how AIs and Spartans worked together in battle with Fil, White Team had always had an AI attached to it, taking up the slot of third member. Though command had assured them that Sita was just as effective – if not more so – than her predecessors, Harry still felt uneasy about having the new AI with him; every time they got a new one, it felt like it was an intruder. It was nothing personal; it was just that it felt like a foreign object, which it was. But they had learned to work with all their previous AIs after undertaking missions alongside them, so Harry was confident that the same would apply to Sita, eventually. "Yeah, I'm fine, Sita." He assured her. "Just thinking, that's all." The AI's avatar appeared a fraction of a second later, showing a young, lovely-looking woman in fashion clothing. "Well, I guess you can afford it" she said with a smirk. "After all, there's still fifty minutes 'til you were told to meet with the meat grinder." It took Harry a few moments before he realized that she meant the captain. Once again, the AI had attempted a joke; an attempt to fit in with the spartans and be considered one of them. Though Harry often found it tedious at times, he couldn't blame her for the behavior; it was all part of 'modern' social integration protocol upgrades to her matrix, which the ONI technicians had expected would improve unit cohesion between the AI and its spartan teammates. It also showed how little spooks knew about human interaction. The use of slang of slang and hardly understood jokes didn't exactly impress the spartans. But they coped with it; they knew Sita couldn't help it. They knew they would start to work well with her eventually. But not now. She was still a stranger to them. Harry repositioned himself on his bench into a more comfortable sitting position, knowing he would have to wait for some time. Sita – having expected a reply that never came – shut off her avatar, leaving the room to be lit by the lights above Harry's and Leo's heads. Over on another bench, Harry could see Leo do the same. It reminded Harry of how similar the two were. They had become perfectly synchronized a long time ago; the side effect of fighting together for prolonged periods of time. But it felt different when it was just the two of them; it felt like they merged into one being, each being a side of the same coin. Maybe it was true in all things except biology. Regardless, Harry was sure of one thing; if the two hadn't helped each other hold together for all this time, they would have snapped one way or another. They each acted as the other's anchor holding them steady in sanity and calm, and ensured they kept fighting on conditions that would have broken normal human beings. Harry managed a weak smile under his visor. As long as he had good old Leo, he would be fine. 16 Master Sergeant Darrel Mac smacked the 42 round magazine of bullets into hiS BR60 as he layed against the white metal wall of the UNSC carrier. He tilted his weapon to the side and yanked back the charging handle, readying the gun for his next mission. The Sergeant had served as a Special Forces trooper since before most of his Spartan allies were even born. After setting his gun aside, the veteran slumped his head against the wall. Even though he had just gotten out of the cyro, it's effects were still on him. He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep. "Time to rock and roll, sunshine!" Oliver-D1512 began to laugh aloud as the old Orbital Drop Shock Trooper that laid against the wall in front of him awoke. The Spartan would be dropping from the ship alongside him and as usual, felt that it was nessecary to bug his fellow teammates. "You stupid bastard.' Remarked Darrel Mac as he felt his head that now ached because of the loud interruption. Oliver continued laughing, his wide grin showed his both annoying and lovable sense of humor. Behind him, the much taller and much more serious soldier, Clyde-D2414, approached the two. "Oliver, you just love being an asshole, don't you?" Clyde remarked in a strict, yet sarcasstic tone. Clyde was the more responsible man of the two, always putting the mission ahead of everything else. He was near polar opposite of his partner Oliver, yet the two had remained good friends since they first met each other. Meanwhile, as the two friends began talking and teasing one another, Sergeant Mac headed towards his pod. He pulled out a golden crucifix necklace that once belonged to his young brother Colin, who had died years ago during the Harvest Campaign of the Great War. As he looked out at the side window that was at the end of the row SOEIV drop pods. He stared out at the endless darkness of the space and stars, before he was suddently interrupted. It was the captain, speaking over the intercom. "All soldiers to you pods. It's go time." Suddently, a group of ODSTs and several Spartans entered the room, put on their helmets and entered their pods. Oliver put on his helmet as he approached Mac, who proceeded to put on his as well. "You ready for this next op, old man?" Clyde asked as he entered the insertion pod and pulled down the protective lock. "More ready then your sorry ass ever will be." Mac replied as he placed the necklace in his pocket. He saw Oliver on the communications screen to the left of him as the pods began firing. Mac closed his eyes as he went falling down from the ship. It was just another drop. Just another drop --Bla 04:04, July 9, 2010 (UTC) |} "My ship's in position, Admiral," Commander Evelyn Feng reported. "Looks like Captain Montrose has gotten the others in this sector locked down too." "Good," replied Lash. On the viewscreen, she watched as the Admiral adjusting his communications to the command freq. "Keep your guns powered down, boys and girls, but keep them on standby. We never know when we're going to need them." "When are we expecting the hostiles, Admiral?" came the voice of Commander Stephen Manderscheid. "Give them a couple days. Then we'll have half the rebels, pirates, and mercenaries on our asses for the rest of the mission." The Admiral sounded exasperated. Feng knew that he was frustrated with the fact that even ONI wasn't doing a good job of keeping operations secret. "Either the spooks are getting sloppy, or the rebels are getting more ambitious." Then again, it was hardly easy to keep such as mission like this quiet, especially with such a large task force in orbit around this place. To be honest, she really hated these kinds of missions. She would be stuck on board her ship for days on end, doing routine checks and patrolling repeatedly until something showed up. That was when people started dying. Looking at the mission log again, Feng made sure that everything she needed to do right now was done. The Spartans and Marines that were assigned to land on Beta-14 were all deployed, and the backup soldiers were all at their posts aboard the Aurora Borealis. Weapons were powered down but kept on standby, as Lash had asked. She directed her gaze to the planet instead. She wondered whether the ground units had any luck with whatever they were doing. They probably aren't bored out of their minds, at least... 1 Gunnery Sergeant Raphael Esquival-Cortez was bored out of his mind. His landing on the surface of Beta-14 was normal enough, but after finding the LZ and hunkering down with his squad, there really was nothing else to do. He had checked his equipment at least six times in the last half hour. What the hell were they waiting for? Every ODST in the makeshift camp were ready to move out, but no orders came in from space either. Raphael was tempted to ask his CO if there was anything he'd missed on, but decided against it. It would only be an annoyance to pester him about it. As if summoned by his thoughts, the voice of Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Forenson emanated from the Sergeant's COM. "Cortez? Are your boys ready?" Ready? No, we've just been waiting around for the last hour. Raphael didn't know why he was feeling so irritated. He looked from one ODST, who was flipping stones into a nearby river, to another who was looking at his own reflection with his helmet visor, the Sergeant answered, "Yes, sir." "Good. Your team will be proceeding to grid twenty-two by nineteen. Spartan Basilisk Team will be meeting you there." "Understood, sir. We're Oscar Mike." Raphael cut the connection, and gave the "move out" gesture to his squad. They picked up their gear and followed him down the river. Grid twenty-two by nineteen was a long way from their current position. But at least moving gave them a purpose. They were finally getting somewhere. [[User:Sona 'Demal|'There is no glory without honour']] 15:51, July 3, 2010 (UTC) 2 "Fi?" Bradley walked in. Fi nodded at him. "Bradley. We need you and Sonya for this mission. You and she are with us because we need you. You can get it together, yes?" Fi said. Bradley pondered for a moment. "Yes, sir." Bradley responded. He was mad, but he knew what would happen if he screwed this up. His team needed him here. Fish walked by Bradley and looked back over his shoulder. "Fi, we've got some stranded Marines on Metgos. Should we check it out?" Fish asked. Fi waited a moment. "Interesting. They may be the 34th. Get ready." Fi ordered. He thought it was a trap,but he couldn't take that chance. The 34th Shock Trooper Division went missing in that sector a week ago. Fi walked over to the navigations officer. "How long untill we get to Metgos?" Fi asked the officer. "Five days" He replied. Fi nodded then walked down to the armory. The door slid open and his squad waited for the announcment. "We deploy to Metgos in five days. I reccomend getting some things straightened out, yes?", Fi looked over to Sonya and Bradley, then continued, "This may be a trap. Be ready." Fi announced. He was worried, he couldn't do the mission without Sonya, or Bradley. Fi walked down to his cabin and looked at the picture of his squad before Fish joined. He missed Victoria, she was a good XO, every time he there he knew that one mistake can take so many things away. Fi sat on his bed then fell back onto the mattress. Then he fell asleep. -- 3 Chen-179 00:31, July 6, 2010 (UTC) |} Commander Seth Dunston had just received word that all ground units, military or civilian, were on the surface when it happened. His communications officer was the first to notice. "Slipspace rupture! Covenant ships on approach." Dunston felt a quick moment of surprise, coupled with a twinge of fear. Then it passed. Broadcasting to the fleet, he said, "Admiral Lash? We've got trouble." "Acknowledged," replied the older officer. "We're prepared for this, everyone. You know what to do. Bring your guns up, and stay in your assigned sector. Keep your firing solutions at the aliens." Earlier, Lash had placed the fleet into sectors, and balanced them according to class, size, and firepower. Even firing in another sector's general direction could be dangerous. And as long as the ships held their ground, the Covenant wouldn't win. "How the hell did they get here so quickly?" muttered Lieutenant Megan Silverwood, the weapons officer. "No time to think about that now, Lieutenant," said Dunston grimly. "It's time to roll. Take the MAC gun off standby, and get me some targets." "Sir." The Covenant ships moved towards the fleet, their weapons glowing red with energy. 1 "You know, I thought we'd be getting somewhere by now," remarked Ebony. Felix scowled. "We have made progress. The leader of those Sangheili has agreed to talk to us later today. We're to meet at the waterfall that Commander Feng located." "I know. That's not what I mean," the AI said. "I thought we'd be either talking with those aliens or killing them by now." "You're so optimistic," the Spartan officer replied. "Sometimes you remind me of Cortana." The Lieutenant Commander didn't particularly like having an AI stuck inside his head. In his experience from Project ORION, it was best to use one's own resourcefulness, or work as a team with other soldiers. And AIs could be irksome at times. But ONI had insisted that he try working with one for this op. So far, he didn't find it helpful. Then again, this op was far from over. "Sir, I see the waterfall a ways off," said Lance Corporal Adrian Mandaloniz. "We should get moving." Felix nodded. "I hear you, Corporal." He stood up from the boulder he had been sitting on, and picked up his rifle. "Commander, I'm picking up movement," Ebony said, her voice suddenly turning sharp. "It's just the squad," he said dismissively. "No, it's something else. I—" "Contact!" shouted Staff Sergeant Andrea Saldivar. The sound of gunfire broke the serenity in the air. Felix heard movement behind him. Reacting instinctively, he turned around, ducking the bullets that flew over his head, and returned fire. His Assault Rifle sprayed 7.62 millimetre rounds at a camouflage-armour human, and he fell. Not even pausing to examine who he had just killed, he switched targets, taking down more of the hostiles. The fight was over in less than a minute. Some of the Marines took hits, but there were no serious injuries. As they recuperated, Ebony asked, "What do you think?" Felix was now looking at the body of one of the camouflaged humans. "I think we've just had our first run-in with a bunch of pirates." "That's not what I mean." She really loved to use that phrase. Then again, the AI often said things in a very vague manner. "You know I detected them first, right?" The Spartan rolled his eyes. Despite the sudden attack, he could tell that Ebony was enjoying this. But she was right. "Okay, you win. Maybe I should trust you a bit more." "That's better." The voice of Cody-D1274 came over his COM. "Lieutenant Commander? We've got trouble." "What is it, Chief?" Felix asked. "Captain Montrose said there's Covenant that just arrived in space. A couple of their dropships made it down to the surface." The senior Spartan kept his frustration in check as he replied in a neutral voice, "Acknowledged. I'm getting to the meeting point now with the Sangheili. Tell the others to keep their eyes peeled. Protect the civilians." "Roger that sir. D1274 out." Felix turned to the Marines, some of whom were still patching up. "Sorry to cut this party short, everyone. But we have to move now. We're on a tight schedule." [[User:Sona 'Demal|'There is no glory without honour']] 14:47, July 10, 2010 (UTC) 2 James held, loosely, his Silenced Machine Gun. He had grown attatched to this SMG more than he had his fellow marines. Of course, they usually were afraid of making decesions that James made, or that James was usually an arrogant man who was way too stuck up for him to actually care for anyone. He had pretty much been alone during the start of this misson, with good reason. James wasn't going to let some small timers stop him from helping the UNSC complete the misson. He tapped the side of his helmet with his hand to clear the radio. It was an old fashioned tactic that James liked to do. From what he could tell from the navy brass chattering away, the covenant were here. Well, that wasn't such a big worry. The UNSC ships would take them out before James had to prepare for fisticuffs. Snap. That one sound made James spin and fire a short burst in the direction of the snap. The bullets hissed through the air, hitting trees with thunks, before the sickening sound of bullet tearing through flesh was heard, with a short sound of a human's last breaths. Pirates? What? James' mind went into overdrive and he knew what to do here. His eyes where peeled, for any sort of disturbance around him. He took steps forwards, eyes peeled. Love is Noise Love is these blues 15:51, July 10, 2010 (UTC) 3 Spartan Tyler, even in his old age still had his aim down. Tyler was sent ahead and decided to land at a nearby planet for reconnaissance. Two shots are fired off and one enemy falls...well most of his aiming. His age is calculated to be 55 with the cryo-sleep subtracted from his "real" age. To him, war is all he knows. It's been years since his last battle and he hopes that after this, little skirmish, he can retire with full honors...even with everything that had happened. Sitting next to him is his usual comrades, Commander Reigns who replaced Wyilliamson after his death following The Forgotten war. Tyler gets up and walks away with the rest of his squad. Another days work done and Tyler looking to the sky and hoping to get off this little rock. It's been almost 10 years since the end of The Forgotten war, but even Tyler knows when the end is coming. He looks over at his squad, tired from a days work, and yells to them to take a break instead while he takes look out. He walks over to the kid manning the sniper rifle and relieves him for a few hours. Taking this time off is nice for Tyler, no more kids asking him questions about the Covenant War or even The Forgotten war, though he doubts any of them really know of that one. Tyler sits there looking on to see anyone else coming to try and ambush him.--'H*bad (talk)' 06:21, July 12, 2010 (UTC) 4 "Unknown enemy contacts, 2 kilometers away," the PA announced. "All teams report to Rally Point Whiskey." "Heh, finally Chen is awake when I want him to be," Ryu chuckled. "Oh, you're a regular comedian, now aren't you?" spat Chen while putting on his EVA suit. "Come on, soldiers!" roared Cohen at his team. "Move, move, move! We've got lives to save!" "Hope he's not talking to us," Karin muttered. "Finally, logistics got my Warthog to me in one piece," Chen exclaimed happily. His Warthog had a Battle rifle attached to the passenger's seat in addition to the gauss cannon mounted on the back of the vehicle. "Let's skedaddle on to the rally point, 20 bucks says that Bravo Kilos are already there," said Eagle, Tango 71's rifleman. "Nah, we're not giving them the base that easily," replied Butcher, the Marine squad's heavy weapons specialist. He hefted his Rocket Launcher over his shoulder. "Alright, cut the chatter and get on a Warthog," Cohen ordered. The whir of the Warthog ended when they arrived to the Rally Point. A huge mass of Marines ODSTs and assorted Spartans "Wow, I'm supposed to know these guys yet I don't" Ryu looked at the resting Spartans. "Don't jinx us Eagle, do you want this base to be overrun?" Snake, the teams scout-sniper. "Don't mind her, rookie she's always happy go lucky like that", Jet, the engineer waved her off. "Orders, Cohen? we can't just keep sitting around he-" Chen was cut off by a large expolsion. "Pirates,here?" Chen finished his sentance, He saw, Ryu and Karin instaly jump into action. Ryu jump on an pirate and slit his throat and thew the body onto another pirate disortentating him while Karin invisibly delivered a shotgun blast to the mans spine, "Ah, hell yeah!!" Karin yelled. Eagle and Butcher were engaging a pirate cotroled Scorpion, Eagle fired a burst with his Battle Rifle taking down the pirate pinning down Butcher who was engaging the 2 pirates trying to enter the room he and Eagle was holed up in " Eat this, you son of a bitch!!" Butcher fired a rocket and destroyed the tank and 3 pirates surrounding it. "Targets in my sight" Chen said as he charged his SPARTAN Laser. "Yeah! one shot, one kill" Chen exclaimed. A group of pirates attempted to storm his snipers nest. He killed the 2 pirates with one charge of the SPARTAN Laser. Jet was trying to plant an explosive on an pirate held building, while Snake covered him. "Ready?" Jet asked as he unloaded a clip of his SMG into a trio of pirates. "Yeah, I'm ready for some fireworks, show 'em what you got" Snake replied as she delivered a sniper bullet to a Innies's head and followed up by wounding another. The building exploded. After Tango and Changdao Teams decimated the battlefield, things started to make aturn for the worse, all the surviving Marine and Spartan teams were exausted. Chen heard Cohen scream "Last Mag!" Chen took aim at the pirates charging killing 2 of them. Cohen, in essence went beserk unloading his clip into the horde of pirates after throwing the his Assault Rifle at a pirate pulling out his pistol and unloading. before retreating. Ryu was close to pasing out from exaustion, Karin was trying to escape the hailstorm of bullets, Eagle and Butcher were pinned down. Jet try to throw back a grenade but it landed too close to him, it exploded. Snake screamed "Jet,NO!!!" Jet was still breathing but barely. "Fall,back now, there too many of them,"!!! Cohen screamed. "The Marines and Spartans lead a valient effort to defend this place but what did we gain, nothing but death, sadness and desolation" Chen whispered "Don't worry,Chen we will give them the hell they gave us they will remeber our name and curse it, for we are Vengeful Spartans, the most lethal force in the universe" Ryu declared Chen-179 02:16, July 14, 2010 (UTC) |} "Sir, we've received a transmission," Sergeant Saldivar reported. "One of my men picked it up on a secondary frequency, it looks like it was left for us..." Felix took the recording device she handed him, and listened intently. The translator integrated into his armour instantly turned the Sanghelian words into English. "To the United Nations Space Command, this is Ruji 'Geran of the Path Walkers," said the voice in a low Sangheili tone. "We are aware of your presence here, and will agree to a meeting in one of our facilities on the far side of the lake you are standing next to upon receiving this transmission. Bring your weapons if you wish, but do not display hostility. If you raid this planet for Forerunner artifacts, we will not take kindly to your actions and will respond accordingly. You have been warned." The Spartan officer mulled the words over in his head. Without consulting Ebony, he opened a private channel to Lieutenant Colonel Forenson. "Joe?" "What is it, Felix?" "You might want to hear this." He sent the transmission. Joseph Forenson was probably one of the few soldiers in the UNSC that actually knew who Felix was in terms of blood. And that was because they were on the same family tree. Although not directly related, Forenson's wife was Marina Morley, the great-niece of Felix's spouse, Jess. He, like her, had spent a long period in a cryotube and had gotten used to the fact that some of their descendants were older than they were. Still, the ODST and the Spartan referred to each other on a first-name basis, unless there were outsiders also talking to them. "Sounds pretty normal. What do you think?" Forenson asked. "They don't seem to be up to anything," Felix replied. "But we have to be careful nonetheless." "It doesn't look like we can make sure without getting on their nerves, though." "Probably not. I'll go." "What about the rogue activity in the area?" "Those Sangheili aren't stupid," Ebony chimed in, sounding slightly irritated at having been cut out of the conversation. "They probably know what's going on and have their own ways of dealing with it." "I'm more worried about the pirates," Forenson said. "Most of them are humans, and if they go snooping around looking for the technology. For all the Sangheili know, we could be sending them out posing as civilians." "We'll sort everything out during the negotiations," Felix said. "Until then, we'll need our troops to clear out as many of the rogues as possible." "Understood. You have tactical command of the Spartans, Lieutenant Commander. Good luck." "Affirmative." "And Felix..." "Yes, sir?" "Tell your boys to take some of them alive." 1 Cody was in good spirits for a number of reasons; the first of which was because he finally reassembled Basilisk Team. They looked a bit restless, so he had them move out right away with the other squads that were coming along. The second was that the ODST platoon they were assigned with consisted of an executive officer that seemed to be on good terms with Spartans (Forenson was elsewhere with his own platoon, but Major Bruce Outlaw kept a good hold over his Helljumpers). The third reason was that this mission was finally getting somewhere. He had just received word that Felix was on his way to meet with the Sangheili, and knew that one way or another, everyone else would have something to do other than hunting down the occasional rogue. "Report," the Chief Petty Officer ordered. "Is everyone back?" "Affirmative, sir," said Alexis-D2811, his second-in-command. "Let's do a casualty count. How many have you neutralized, Alexis?" "Fifteen dead, four captured." "Twenty-two dead, one captured," Ryan-D1120 said. "There were a couple of runners, I had to pick them off." "Seven dead, thirteen captured," said Ava-D395. "A few of them had critical injuries, but I kept them alive. They're unconscious at the moment, though." There was a pause. "Sophia?" Cody asked, when no reply came. "Twenty-six dead, sir." "How many did you take alive?" "None." He sighed. Sometimes his CQB specialist was a little too brutal. But he could tell that her report wasn't what held her up. "Is there a problem?" "I thought I saw something move. Under the ridge on the hill we're passing." Cody looked back, where Sophia was positioned around a team of ODSTs. She was still walking normally, and to the casual observer, it would have been difficult to tell that she was suspicious. But he caught her stiff movements, and the wary posture she held when surreptitiously observing her surroundings. It could be just a coincidence, he thought. But he trusted his teammate. "Orders, Cody?" Sophia enquired. The Chief Petty Officer made a visible hand gesture to her, as if motioning to her to move up. But broadcasting to Basilisk Team alone, so that not even the ODSTs (who were often known to act on reflex and weren't the best at drawing enemies out, especially in larger groups) could hear them, he said, "Okay, here's the plan." [[User:Sona 'Demal|'There is no glory without honour']] 03:50, July 22, 2010 (UTC) 2 David lay very still under the cover of the bushes and cursed his lack of foresight. He, David Kahn, who had built his professional success on a foundation of planning for every possible contingency, had waltzed into the middle of an unexplored forest with no camouflage and only standard equipment. He'd known that UNSC troops were in the area, so why hadn't he been more cautious? Was the prospect of six million credits waiting for him at the end of this assignment dulling his wits and making him sloppy? Mistakes like this were ones rank amateurs made, the slip-up that caused most prospective freelancers to have lethally short careers. A lesser man might have wasted several more crucial seconds on mental flagellation, but David Kahn was not one who was not predisposed towards wasting time. He was lying approximately fifteen yards away from some of the most lethal soldiers in the galaxy. All of them were better armed and armored than he was, and although he most likely had more combat experience than most of them combined, all the experience in the universe wouldn't stop a group that large from riddling him with bullets the moment he made a move. To make matters worse, he was with a fellow mercenary who, while certainly capable of looking out for himself, was prone to making amateurish mistakes. This was another reason David was furious at his lapse in judgement: he'd spent a good amount of their short partnership together lecturing Mordred on behaving like a professional. If the ODSTs and Spartans--for David was positive that the bearers of that distinctive armor were the UNSC's legendary super soldiers--were alerted to their presence in any way, death would be swift and unforgiving. Fortunately the group had changed course after clearing the hill, which meant that they would not be descending directly upon his and Mordred's prone forms. But that didn't mean they weren't alert. From what Stanley had just told him and from the scattered reports Diana had been intercepting, the UNSC had been slaughtering any pirates or rebels they stumbled across. These soldiers knew that they were in hostile territory and would be at the peak of awareness. Ever so carefully, David arched his neck until he could glimpse the government troops through the leaves of his guardian bush. They were making no signs that they had seen any movement, but these were trained professionals he was dealing with. It would be unwise to spray empty bushes with gunfire, not with pirates and rebels around every tree and rock. The same was true for grenades, grenades that might be needed should a real firefight break out. No, the way David would have handled a situation like this would be to lull a suspected enemy into a false sense of security while you set up and waited for him to step out. Quick, clean, and with a minimum expenditure of ammunition. So he'd have to wait for some time, even after these troops had passed by. No matter. He'd lain prone for hours, even days at a time as he waited for a target to pass through the crosshairs of a sniper rifle. He was prepared to do it, but could the same be said for Mordred? A chill of uncharacteristic fear briefly ran up his spine before he dismissed it. This is why I work alone, he thought distantly. You don't have anyone watching your back, but at least you only have to worry about your own screw-ups. If Mordred fell for such a simple trap, they would both die. They'd blow him away, then come over to inspect the body and find David as well. They could both wait this out and survive--David's uniform and Mordred's armor were dark enough to remain unnoticed under the bushes--but only if Mordred stuck it out until the troops had moved on. David had no choice; he could no longer see the UNSC troops, which meant that Mordred could relax and get up at any moment. He would have to risk moving. Slowly, ever so slowly, David allowed one of his hands to travel up to his ear and activate the small communications headset he wearing. The headset was tuned in to Mordred's helmet frequency. He could warn Mordred without anyone else hearing. "Mordred," he began, keeping an eye on the ridge in case the group came back. To David's fleeting horror, Mordred replied before he could finish the rest of his message. "Right," the younger mercenary said. "Let's get moving." Everything seemed to be moving as though underwater. David tried to lash out at his partner with his feet, hoping to kick him and warn him back down, but from the tremors of the leaves around him Mordred was already getting up. Now backup plans were quickly formulating in David's head: he could make a break for it as the soldiers mowed Mordred down; hopefully they'd be distracted by their kill long enough for him to cover enough ground. His body tensed as he waited for a fusillade of bullets to cut Mordred to ribbons. The bullets never came, or at least not in their direction. Suddenly the woods were filled with the distinctive sound of energy weapons. Green and blue lights slashed through and around the trees as energy carbines and plasma rifles were fired. The response was almost instantaneous: assault and battle rifles were now answering the energy weapons. The air was filled with the sounds of men yelling and aliens--squawking? His carbine at the ready, David pushed the top of his body out from under the bush. A team of avian-bodied Jackals had emerged almost fifty yards from his and Mordred's position and were firing on the ODSTs and Spartans. The group had clearly been circling around to draw David and Mordred out: they had descended from the hill and were between them and the Jackals. But now the soldiers had little time for what they must have suspected to be rebels; their attention was fixed on their Jackal assailants. Beside David, Mordred was frozen in place, half standing, half crouching. David dropped back down to the ground. "Start crawling!" he barked into his headset. Mordred tried to get out of David's way as the mercenary began crawling towards him and managed to sink his armored foot into a mud puddle that had gathered at the base of a tree. Pulling the offending foot back, he scrambled to get back on the ground and also began to crawl. The two mercenaries kept this up, slowly maneuvering around bushes and trees, even as the sounds of battle continued to rage behind them. It was only after those and all other sounds had completely died away that they risked getting to their feet, brushing the collected dirt off their bodies, and proceeding back to the Starkiller as quickly and cautiously as possible. 3 The fight was over in less than a minute. It had been obvious who would win. Raphael turned over a Jackal's body with his boot. It was dead, no doubt. The alien had so many bullets in him he was practically Swiss cheese. "All hostiles accounted for?" asked Major Outlaw. "Looks like it, sir," replied Terry-D293. "These Jackals aren't Covenant," Raphael remarked, examining the dead Jackal he was standing over. "They're pirates." "To each their own," Outlaw said. "Most of these lizards are more greedy than human rebels." "Everyone, I'm going to need you to conduct a thorough search of the area," came the voice of Cody-D1274. Predictably, a series of complaints flooded the channel, mostly from the ODSTs. "Do it," Raphael snapped to his men. Outlaw got everyone to quiet down. He asked, "What's the occasion, Chief? You said there were possible rogues in the area. It looks like we dealt with them." "No, sir. I think there's...something else." Cody sounded preoccupied. But aside from the occasional grumbling, the platoon set themselves to their tasks. Raphael spotted an ODST walking around carelessly, sweeping aside bushes as if looking for something but not really glancing at any of it. "Stop screwing around," the Sergeant berated him angrily, "Or I'll have you hauled back to guard the POWs." Immediately, the Private set to his task more carefully. Walking in a different direction, Raphael moved over the hill they had walked past to another cluster of bushes. At first glance, they seemed to be undisturbed, but the Helljumper noted how the leaves in the middle and bottom were curled away from a general direction, and had a loose feel to it. He kept looking around until he reached a tree, growing more sure that someone, maybe two people, had slipped away here recently. But it wasn't until he spotted the mud puddle that he was certain. Turning on his COM, Raphael said, "Cody, get to my position. I think you might be interested in this." The Chief Petty Officer spotted him, and hurriedly approached the ODST. "What have you found, Sergeant?" He showed him the puddle. Imprinted on one side of it was a large bootprint. "Looks like armour from covert ops," Raphael said. "Any ideas?" Cody looked over the markings carefully, taking in every detail. "That's...SPI armour. Last time I recalled, it was used by the first three SPARTAN-III Companies way back during the Human-Covenant War. It was scrapped by the UNSC after the development of the Mark VII HLS variant." "So who the hell would wear one of those antiques?" Raphael asked, frowning. Just another mercenary probably, but... No one but a Spartan could wear that kind of armour. It seemed that Cody had already come to the same conclusion. "SPARTAN-D1274 to SPARTAN-116," he said. "Sir, things just got worse." [[User:Sona 'Demal|'There is no glory without honour']] 03:30, July 23, 2010 (UTC) |} "A rogue Spartan?" Felix repeated. He resisted the urge to groan. "That's the last thing we need right now." "There could be a number of possibilities, sir," Cody said over the COM. "But it's the most likely...relatively speaking." "We haven't had a lot of rogue Spartans in the history of the entire project," the Lieutenant Commander said. "I'll inform Admiral Lash and have someone run a check on the possibilities." "Copy. Orders, sir?" "I've received a report that a group of scientists have found something, but have run into some trouble. Covenant most likely. They got separated from the Marines escorting them and are pinned down, but they're not far from your current position, so rally your team, take a break from looking for pirates, and give them the assistance. The civilian who made the call is Dr Richard Hunt." "Roger, sir. Have you met up with those Sangheili yet?" Felix looked around. The soldiers he was with had come across some rebels, but as per Colonel Forenson's orders, the Marines had managed to take a few captive. But the team had almost made their way across the massive lake where the separatist Sangheili were waiting. "Almost. Keep your fingers crossed. Let's hope they're still in a mood to talk." 1 In the end, it took them over two hours to reach the Starkiller's hidden landing zone. By that time, Simon's grey-toned armor was covered with mud, dirt, and leaves and he was certain that his prosthetic arm and most of his gear would need a thorough cleaning before he'd trust them to work reliably again. And Simon intended to have plenty of time to do that cleaning because he was certain they were about to get the hell off of this planet. "Alright," he panted as he staggered up the Starkiller's boarding ramp and into its cargo bay. "What are we waiting for? Let's pack up and get the engines running." Off to the side, Kahn entered a short key code into a console beside the door. The ramp began to slide upwards. When it was completely shut, he turned back to Simon, who saw that Kahn's combat jumpsuit was just as dirtied as his armor was. "What are you talking about?" Kahn asked, raising his eyebrows. "What do you think I'm talking about?" Simon demanded. "Let's get this ship moving before some more of those guys show up! We need to get out of here now!" "That's not happening." Kahn strode past him and mounted the steps leading from the cargo bay to the living quarters. "What the hell do you mean, it's not happening? Did you not just see those guys?" "I saw them," Kahn said with a shrug. "This just complicates things a little more than we'd been expecting. Nothing to panic about." "Nothing to panic about?" Simon tore his helmet off and glared up at Kahn with a mixture of shock and indignation. "Who do you think those guys were, the circus? Those were Spartans! In full armor! It was bad enough when this place got crawling with UNSC troops, but now they've got Spartans! We won't stand a chance if we stick around here! They'll rip us apart!" "Calm down," Kahn said coldly. "So long as we keep a low profile, they won't bother with us. They obviously have their business with those Elites, and we have ours. They'll be focusing on what they need to be doing; we should do the same." "How do you know the things they need to be doing don't involve sweeping this entire planet for criminals like us?" "We're not criminals," said Kahn, a touch of contempt in his voice. "We're mercenaries. Just because the rest of the galaxy can't understand the distinction doesn't mean we shouldn't either." "That's not the point!" "Much as it pains me to agree with the dumbass here," piped in Diana from the speaker's in his prosthetic arm. "We should be clearing out. None of us want to tangle with the UNSC's psycho division, especially when they're kitted out like that." "Both of you still aren't getting the point," said Kahn, sounding like he was losing patience. "If we do this right, we won't have to get near those Spartans again. There are only so many troops the UNSC can put down here, and those they do will be too tied up with clearing out all the pirates and rebels to look for a couple of mercenaries hiding in the woods. So long as they aren't here to wipe out the Elites, our job is still to grab our target and haul his ass back to his father in one piece. If anything, those Spartans can help us get this done: the Elites will be more worried about them than they will be about us slipping into their compound. We can get this done while they and the UNSC focus on each other." "Maybe you can," said Simon through gritted teeth. "But I'' won't. And neither will Diana. We're out. I haven't gotten where I am now just to get a UNSC bullet through my head." "Where you are now?" asked Kahn. "Where, exactly, do you mean? Living in some two-bit apartment and taking on hit jobs for low-grade crime bosses? If that's you're idea of being somewhere, than I'd hate to know what you had to grow up with." "I've lived through worse," growled Simon, and meant it. "And four million credits isn't worth getting killed over. No amount of money is. We're out." "He's right," said Diana. "I don't fancy us getting shot up by a bunch of invincible super-soldiers." "Spartans aren't invincible," remarked Kahn mildly. "But where, pray tell, do you intend to go? You want to sign on with Stanley or some of the other scum lying around here? Maybe ask the UNSC troops if they'll give you a lift?" "Of course not," Simon snorted. He'd already completely forgotten the allure of four million credits he'd been feeling when Kahn had offered him this job. Now he just wanted to get out of here before the UNSC--and his past--caught up to him. "We'll be taking your ship off." "Oh really?" asked Kahn, narrowing his eyes. "Well," said Simon, quickly jumping to clarify his intentions before Kahn misread them and got violent. "You'll be leaving too, right? You can't do this job, not without us to back you up. It's too risky. You'll have to quit, or at least go get more help. The least you could do is give us a lift while you're at it." "Oh, but I'm not leaving," replied Kahn. "I'm staying right here until this job's done. I'm not quitting and I'm not going to get more help; we're too far in the game for me to do something like that. So you'll have to find yourself a ride somewhere else." Simon gaped at him. "Are you crazy? You can't take a whole compound of Elites by yourself!" "I've done riskier things." Kahn shrugged. "I'll just have to plan things more carefully now." "You ''are nuts," said Diana. "Without us--" "Without you, I'll have a harder time at things," said Kahn cooly. "I have no problems with admitting that much. But I'm not just giving up because you want to walk. That's not how I do things. I operate under certain standards that need to be met, no matter how difficult the job is." "Kahn--" "Let me tell you something about me," Kahn broke in. "Since you seem to have failed to pick up on it in those months you were working with me. Do you ever wonder why people pay me so much money to do their dirty work?" Simon shrugged. "Of course. Everyone does." "The crime lords and all my other clients pay me the kind of sums they do because of one thing: I deliver. Once I've taken a job nothing stops me from completing it. Nothing. And everyone in the galaxy knows that. Unlike you and just about every other freelancer out there, I won't stop if the job gets too tough and I don't think the money's worth it anymore. I do whatever it takes to get the job done. That's what my clients know, that's why they hire me, and that's why they pay me so much. So go ahead, walk out. I won't stop you. I just hope you know what you're doing, stranding yourself on a planet that's being overrun by the UNSC you're so afraid of." Simon gazed up at Kahn, hardly realizing that his mouth was partially open. "Christ, he muttered. "You're insane." "Call it what you will." Simon's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Alright," he sighed. "I'll stay on. Diana?" "I'm still in then, I guess," she replied. "I really can't see any other option." "Smart move," said Kahn. He continued his climb up the steps. "We'll be able to steer clear of the UNSC troops as long as Diana keeps an eye on their communications. We can lie low for a day or so, in case they did spot us back there, then we'll move up to that compound and do some reconnaissance. In the meantime, I suggest you clean yourself up. You're a mess." "Speak for yourself," Simon muttered as Kahn vanished up the stairs. With a dejected sigh, he sat down on a nearby crate and began to inspect his equipment. 2 "CONTACTS!" Yelled Bradley while ducking for cover. Fi dove near Fish and told him to set up by the rock formation by their landing area. Fi stood up and shot a brute, followed by another. Suddenly a Phantom pierced through the greenish-grey clouds and shot torpedoes at his squad. "What just happened?" asked Fi, his memory now blanked after waking up. He had hust made contact with the UNSC. All he could remember was a Covenant attack on Metgos and being knocked out by a plasma torpedoe. "We took care of the Covvies, Sir. But Cap'n Kenning wants to talk" "Hello, this is Captain Kenning of the UNSC Renko." The captain declared. Fi got up, and and loaded his rifle. He then responded, "Yes, the Renko. Used to conduct search and rescue operations. We have only been here for a day. Whats wrong?" Fi asked, puzzled. "Our records say you've been out of contact for a month." Kenning explained. Also confused over the situation. Fi, now even more confused pondered for a moment and came up with no logical solution besides that, "Your records must be wrong." "Okay then, our scans show that your shp is operational... pristine even. You should get out of here. Brute patrols got kicked up alot just a week ago, be careful." Kenning reported. His ship then flew out of airspace and closed their COMMs channel. Fi ordered everyone onto the ship and began their look for the brute ship that deployed those soliders. --Sorry guys, went to Hawaii. Didn't feel like not editing on this again but not very good for thinking right now. 3 Spartan Tyler is walking through the bridge of the ship Dawn of Enlightened and stares out into the blackness of space. After the first recon mission, his team was pushed back to the Calvary position in case it got out of hand. The only reason he is even still a Spartan is because of the propaganda surrounding him after The Forgotten War. Tyler walks to his quarters to sit when suddenly he gets an alert, their ship is headed directly to a planet that might have enemy supplies. His team moves out to the location. After traveling for so long, the come to the planet to investigate. Later on, after the recon mission around the planet was complete, Tyler knew he was about to be sent down there. Only time will tell what exactly is going on. He is hoping that it is something that is more interesting then just sitting around shooting the same enemy day after day for around four decades. Tyler picks up his sniper rifle and pistol and heads out to the ship bay. Only time will tell. --'H*bad (talk)' 4 DibsEcho 1125 10:09, August 28, 2010 (UTC) 5 MEIN MEIN MEIN MEIN --RichardRHunt 14:52, August 28, 2010 (UTC) 6 "Rogue SPARTAN eh?"Ryu looked at the datapad he held in his hand. "Strange, haven't heard of many rogue SPARTANs before", Karin wondered. "Are you sure? Why the UNSC didn't treat us that badly, for a solider.", Chen replied. The day had been slow for Dao Team, placed on guard duty to protect the civilians and scientists. "Wait, do you hear that?" Karin asked. the SPARTANs frroze. "They wouldn't stoop that low, would they?" Chen asked suprised. They knew quite well that they would. "CONTACTS!" Ryu shouted as the Choppers rumbled foward. The Marines all rushed foward all fireing their rifles, sometimes tearing the Brutes off the seats of their Choppers. Ryu jumped onto a Chopper and shredded the driver with concentrated SMG fire. Chen had boarded a Chopper and threw the enemy forces into disarray Karin went into camoflauge, jumping and chokeing the life out of a Brute. The Marines were still going strong, though sevreal lie dead or wounded on the ground. The UNSC force mouned an expert defence, almost no civilians lie dead on the ground. The Brute force have fell into disarray Their were no suriviors of their assault force. "Well, that was a minor inconvinance" Chen retorted out of breath."so where was I? Ah yes this rogue SPARTAN, I cant figure out why they didn't treat us IIIs so badly" Ryu wondered absent mindedly. "Do you think Command wamts us to hunt another Delta down" Karin asked. She alwaysed enjoyed hunting down a target especially one as skilled as a SPARTAN. "We wouldn't know, he's a Gamma right?" Chen asked. "From what I heard he isn't the best SPARTAN, Karin, I don't think you would get much pleasure from hunting him" Ryu informed Karin. The echos of their conversations bled into the dullness of the day Chen-179 01:14, October 16, 2010 (UTC) Category:RP